Kevin could hardly believe it. That was not what he had expected when he had entered the chamber. He didn’t know what he’d expected but accepting his brother’s hereditary title hadn’t been a glimmer in his mind.
After a moment, he shook his head.
“Sean,” he said, still fighting the reality of his brother’s gesture. “They belong to you. What of your sons? What will you leave them?”
“Bath and Glastonbury,” Sean said, his eyes glimmering with mirth. “And I still have Stonegrave and Darlington. Believe me, I have enough to never want for anything ever again. Please let me do this for you, Kevin. Please let me gift you with the Trilaterals.”
It was the most generous thing Kevin had ever heard of. Given the fact that he and his brother had shared a contentious relationship over the past several years, it was even more astonishing. Sean and Kevin had gone years not speaking to one another, mostly because of Kevin. But now, none of that seemed to matter in Sean’s eyes.
It was almost more than Kevin could bear.
“Why?” he finally managed to ask, feeling a lump in his throat. “Why would you be so generous to me? All I’ve done over the past several years is tell you how ashamed I was of you and how much I hated what you had done to yourself. I do not understand why you should be so generous. I do not deserve it.”
Sean squeezed his hands. “Of course you do,” he said. “As for what happened… I know you were angry because you loved me, not because you hated me. You are a man of great passion and conviction, Kevin. There was never any doubt in my mind that we would someday reconcile, and we have.”
Kevin stared at him, his eyes welling. He was so overwhelmed that he was having difficulty with his composure. “And I am grateful for it,” he said, quickly blinking away the tears. “You tolerated much of my ignorance and prejudice with grace, Sean. When you should have slapped me, you tried to reason with me. In hindsight, I understand your motives and your reasons, but at the time… at the time, I was blinded by my own sense of self-righteousness.”
Sean squeezed his hands one last time before releasing them. “But it wasn’t something that time could not heal,” he said. “We are healed, Kevin. And I am giving you the Trilaterals because I am going to be at Lansdown Castle, the seat of my earldom. A de Lara must always be in possession of the Trilaterals, and that will be you and your heirs. Make your mark, little brother. I know you can.”
Kevin smiled weakly, the realization of his brother’s great gift beginning to settle on him. “I can only hope to live up to what you would have done,” he said. “I’ve never actually had a command before.”
“You do now.”
Kevin laughed nervously, standing up from the bed. “Thanks to you,” he said, his mind going to the castles he so recently visited. “God’s Bones… I never thought this would happen. To thank you seems wholly inadequate, but you have my deepest thanks. Are you certain you want to do this?”
“More than certain.”
Kevin ran his fingers through his hair as he realized that he was now a warlord, with properties and an army befitting that status. It was too good to believe.
“When you have the documents drawn up, you should send word to Bannon de Venter,” he said. “He is in command of Trelystan at the moment and should hear this from you, not from me. He must have your confirmation so that he knows it is to be my command.”
Sean nodded, but it was clear that he was growing weary as the conversation wore him down. “I shall, have no fear.”
The more Kevin thought on his new status, the more excited he became. “I shall return to the Trilaterals and make sure the vassals know that a de Lara has returned to lead them,” he said. Then, he looked at his brother as if a thought had just occurred to him. “I may even expand the empire. In fact, when I was there, I heard the soldiers speaking of old Lord Breidden. You know the man? Father knew him, I think. He is as old as Methuselah.”
“I remember him,” Sean said. “What about him?”
“He’s dying,” Kevin said. “According to our soldiers, anyway. But as I recall, he has no heirs. I remember Father saying that he was a lonely old man.”
“A lonely old man with a big castle not too far from Trelystan.”
Kevin tapped his head in a knowing gesture. “Exactly my thought.”
Sean grinned, but it was an exhausted gesture. “Good lad,” he said to his brother. “Already looking ahead to the future by expanding your lands.”
He closed his eyes and Kevin was finally catching on that his brother was growing weary. He went to the man, helping him pull up his coverlet. He stood over him a moment, watching him settle down.
“But it is only possible because of you,” he said softly. Reaching down, he put a gentle hand on Sean’s forehead. “I am ever grateful, Brother.”
Sean’s smile was fading as sleep pulled at him. “You are the most worthy man I know,” he said. “I know you will make me proud.”
Kevin continued to stand over Sean as he drifted off to sleep. He was still reeling from his brother’s gift, but the more the realization sank in, the more excited he was about it. Something he never thought would happen to him had now become reality.
Lord of the Trilaterals.
He’d never had a position of great power. He’d always been more of a man who took orders than a man who gave them, but that was about to change. He was a de Lara and de Laras never failed.
He didn’t want to be the first one.
He was certainly going to find out.
CHAPTER TWO
Two years later
Wales
“You do not belong here.”
Kevin was standing in the gatehouse of Wybren Castle, a castle he had just acquired as part of the Lords of the Trilaterals empire. Literally, he had only arrived this morning with seven hundred men, who were now spread out all over the castle, investigating their new home. Two of Kevin’s knights were supervising the inspection and inventory, while the third knight was standing slightly behind Kevin as they faced a delegation of incoming Welsh warlords.
And they were not welcoming.
“I have as much right to Wales as a native Welshman,” Kevin said, focused on the two he was facing off against while his knight, Gareth de Llion, kept an eye on the gang of Welshmen behind him, some with deadly crossbows. “My ancestor several generations back was the descendant of a lost Roman legion, so my blood has been in Wales before it was even a country. Do not come to my door telling me I do not belong here, for you would be wrong.”
The two men in the lead seemed taken aback by that suggestion. They were at the head of a self-appointed delegation of local warlords who did not want to see their lands infested with the English. They wanted to make sure that the new Lord of Wybren Castle, or Castle of the Sky some called it for its lofty keep, knew that there would be no local alliance.
No friendship.
No peace.
“You were not born in Wales,” a man with an eyepatch spoke angrily. “You were born with the filth of the Saesneg on you and now you bring that stench into my home, into my lands.”
“My home, my lands,” Kevin countered. “If you’ve come here only to tell me that you do not want me here, save your breath. I am here and I am staying.”